


O Magnum Mysterium

by colourinside



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994)
Genre: Christianity, Gen, Music, Religion, Sacral Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 20:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17210402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colourinside/pseuds/colourinside
Summary: "I had often heard it [the choir] when I had been strolling around near the cathedral, the enchanting melodies had been carried outside and I had stopped and listened, but I had never been bold enough to go where they sang. Tonight, it seemed, I was bold enough." - Louis is drawn in by a sacral choir concert, yet, despite the beauty of the music, he is tormented by a religious conflict within himself.





	O Magnum Mysterium

_God sees you_. This I had been taught. This I had been reminded of at every given opportunity. God sees your hardship and your pain, God sees your goodness, God sees your tears; yet most importantly, God sees your sin, God sees all wrong. God punishes. This I had been told more often than _God forgives_. It was always in a house of God, when I felt His scrutiny upon me more than anywhere else, and so I did now, more than ever before, once I had taken a seat amidst the pulsing, shuffling and sweating congregation. The cathedral was large and cold, even now I felt that cold creep into me. But I also felt that God was watching me. Watching me through the eyes of the picture of the virgin Mary: her eyes seemed daunting, judging me. And judging me were the gilded angels at the altar far ahead of me, judging me, the images of saints in the grand frescos, judging me, the sculpted heads of cherubs on the beams above and the figures in the stained glass. All those sculptures, all those paintings, all seemed to have their eyes on me, spotting me in the crowd, peering at me as if their glares alone could drive me out. And I firmly believed that God saw me, that God singled me out and that He wanted to expel the fiend from this sacred cathedral.

Yet, despite all that scrutiny I felt, there were no consequences. I was still part of the congregation, I could still behold the breath-taking beauty of the cathedral and I had even been granted a seat – the people had let me pass as they saw the vibrant colours and expensive fabrics in which I was dressed. They did not scrutinise me or judge me, they did not know.

This gathering, however, was not of a religious nature. These people had come to hear the choir. I had often heard it when I had been strolling around near the cathedral, the enchanting melodies had been carried outside and I had stopped and listened, but I had never been bold enough to go where they sang. Tonight, it seemed, I was bold enough.

I sat at the far back, as I could not bring myself just yet to wander further into the cathedral. There were no windows where I sat that would tinge in brilliant colours the beams of moonlight that came in through the stained glass. The only light that reached the back rows, was the light that came from the half-open cathedral door and it cleanly cut through the air; a harsh, white streak, yet this light from behind us still shrouded us in shadows.

Now, I could just see the choir emerging, high above the altar on a theatre-like balcony. I could see them in their exquisite robes and standing in a neat row, they were resembling the large, silver organ pipes behind them.

And when in unison, they all lifted their sacred choir books, the rustling of it was like a prelude and I was suddenly gripped by a quivering anticipation.

As they started their song, I found myself closing my eyes; in seeing, I would spoil the magnificence of sound that swept over the cathedral as soon as the very first note was articulated. I could feel the song traveling about, climbing the arches and beams, caressing the marble statues, enwombing the virgin Mary and softening the anguish in her expression.

Hearing their songs from afar could not compare to this total embrace of sound; the true beauty of it and the inevitable religious devotion could never travel outside the walls of the cathedral. It was as if God listened, as if God was drawn in and called among the congregation to hear that chanted praise.

The men sounded low and their voices seemed to reach around the cathedral, while the boys’ singing was like a cry to the heavens. I opened my eyes.

Their song seemed to carry with it an unspeakable sorrow and I felt filled up with it, heavy with it. It became a lament, not a praise, it carried the weight of all sin and it asked for forgiveness. All that is good, all that is gracious, all that is beyond all understanding. _O magnum mysterium_. That one fair virgin could carry the divine seed within her and bear Christ. _Alleluia_. Oh, what a great, beautiful mystery. Suddenly, I felt tears spring to my eyes. The youthful voices resonated within me, resonated within the cathedral and made the many candle flames flicker, bow to the wondrous beauty of song. How could something be so beautiful, yet carry so much smothering sorrow?

Such desperate, urging curiosity, questioning the Lord. How, how is it this mystery, that animals should see the new-born Christ? Lord, answer us who know nothing; does not knowing make this a divine mystery, or is it really a plight?

The magnitude of their questioning elegy raised every little hair on my skin. I could feel a shiver creep through me, from the white, slender knuckles of my hands that clasped my thighs, to the very roots of my hair. Every siren-like note that came from the young boys seemed to fuel that shiver, made it flare up again like a cold flame. And the tears came, too, came flooding my eyes at the ethereal beauty of the song, at the probing questions that it conveyed and the dreadful meaning that it held for me.

I had to close my eyes again to the scrutiny of the Lord, who I felt had been summoned by their singing. And the tears fell, as I could no longer keep them at bay.

_O magnum mysterium_. Lord, can you see me? Can you answer the questions my dark maker cannot? Lord, you surely must resent me.

As the choir sang their _Alleluia_ , I pushed my way through the crowd. The people looked at me, just a little scandalised, but like before, they let me pass.

I left the cathedral and immediately, I felt a strange relief. The song had died, the air was silent now, as if all sound had been extracted from it. I waited until I heard the prelude of the whispering choir book pages, then _Adoramus te Christe_.

I wiped my eyes and walked away into the night.


End file.
